


Shot to the Heart

by LadyLienDa



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2019-2020 [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Decisions, Bad Things Happen Bingo, CT-7567 | Rex Needs a Hug, Gen, Hurt CT-7567 | Rex, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mentioned CT-6116 | Kix, Old Wounds, Protective Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28496973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLienDa/pseuds/LadyLienDa
Summary: In hindsight, shipping himself off to another battle so soon after taking a blaster bolt to the chest was not one of Rex’s better ideas.Written for Bad Things Happen Bingo
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2019-2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1251959
Comments: 16
Kudos: 53





	Shot to the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Rex is one of my favorite SW characters and I love seeing works exploring the dynamic between him, Anakin, and Ahsoka. Hence, this fic.

In hindsight, shipping himself off to another battle so soon after taking a blaster bolt to the chest was not one of Rex’s better ideas. It had been several days since Saleucemi and bacta patches were a wonderful thing, but clearly he’d overestimated his recovery abilities.

Kriffing Sith hells, Kix was going to _murder_ him.

That is, if a clanker didn’t get him first.

Rex ducked behind a piece of debris, pausing to catch his breath. Unconsciously, he clutched at his chest, as if he could stop the dull throbbing that had set in, even through several layers of thick material. His skin prickled with sweat under his blacks and he realized he was uncomfortably hot. That was disconcerting. This wasn’t a particularly hot climate, and his blacks should be working to keep him cool beyond the natural body heat and perspiration from physical activity. The fact that he seemed to be sweating buckets right now wasn’t good.

Rex closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a few seconds, hoping it would help quell the growing sense of dread in his gut. It didn’t.

With a sigh, he turned around and cautiously peeked over the piece of debris he had been sheltering behind. With all the noise around him, it was hard to pinpoint exactly where the enemy was. He flicked his eyes over the terrain and spotted a trooper booking it straight towards his hiding place, followed closely behind by two droidekas. The trooper, whom Rex recognized as Clay, one of Kix’s junior medics, dove behind another piece of debris only a few feet away from Rex’s spot just as the droidekas stopped, uncurled, and opened fire. Poor Clay was pinned down. Lucky for him, the clankers hadn’t spotted Rex.

Shifting his weight to the balls of his feet to stay behind cover, he reached into his belt pouch and withdrew two droid poppers. Grinning to himself, he carefully rolled the two balls towards the droid’s shields, letting out a sigh of relief as they slid through unnoticed. A moment later crackling blue energy surrounded the droids and before they quite knew what had happened Rex had put two smoking bolts holes right in the middle of their carapace-like outer plating.

Clay’s helmeted head popped up from behind his own cover. Spotting Rex, he waved and darted over, joining Rex behind his chunk of debris as several more stray blaster bolts came whizzing their way.

“Thanks, Captain!” the medic chirped. Clay was by no means a shiny – he’d seen plenty of battles – but he had stubbornly held onto that annoyingly chipper attitude characteristic of most shinies. Rex had watched many shinies lose that attitude very abruptly after their first battle as the horror and reality of war set in, but Clay was one of the ones that seemed less shaken than the others. That, or he was extremely good at hiding it. Either way, he was often a source of much-needed cheer in what was otherwise a dreary existence.

“Boy, what a day, eh, Captain?” he remarked, reaching up to adjust his bucket. “With all due respect, this is getting pretty ridiculous. We can’t make any headway in this much resistance!”

Rex nodded as another blaster bolt whizzed over his head. “I agree.”

“You doing okay there?”

The question caught Rex off-guard. He looked down and realized he had been clutching his chest again. “I’m fine, Clay,” he replied automatically. “You’re right, this is crazy.”

Without waiting for Clay to respond, he tapped his commlink. “General, this isn’t working,” he said without preamble. “Most of us in the north sector are completely pinned down. We’re not making any headway with this much resistance. I suggest we fall back to the fort. Try a different approach.”

 _“Copy that, Rex,”_ came General Skywalker’s voice. _“Get your men out of there and back to the fort. My squadron will cover you.”_

Rex brought up his squadron’s comm frequency. “All units, retreat! Fall back to the fort!”

Now came the difficult job of making their way back to the fort without getting shot in the back. While Rex had been talking, Clay had peered above the piece of debris. At a nod from him, they made for where Clay had originally taken cover behind another piece of debris. Then on until the next until they reached the burned-out husk of a building where several other troopers were hiding out. Rex immediately noticed something was wrong.

“Medic!” One of the men called as the two reached the relative safety of the building. A trooper was lying propped against a pile of rubble. Two others were busy removing the armor on his left thigh. Rex was no medic, but it looked serious.

Clay wasted no time in dropping down and assessing the damage. “I can’t treat this here,” he said quickly, “we need to get him back to base.” He pointed at one of the troopers, a young one with an upside-down handprint decorating his helmet, whose name Rex was, regrettably, completely spacing. “You, cover me.” He pointed at the second trooper, a shiny with undecorated armor. “You, help me with him.” Then he turned to Rex. “Can you help cover me, Captain?”

Rex was busy reloading the cartridge in his DC, trying to ignore the pain in his chest that had progressed from “dull ache” to “twisting knife.”

“Right behind you, kid.”

He was not right behind him.

As soon as he stood, he felt something tear inside him and it was all he could do to keep from collapsing right there. Biting back a groan, he quickened his pace to keep up with Clay and the others, who were busy dragging the injured soldier back to the base.

A blaster bolt hit the ground right in front of him. Rex skidded to a halt, the action causing his already throbbing chest to jolt painfully, and this time he really did fall down. He hit the ground fully on his back with a dull _thud_ , his bucket slamming into the rocky terrain beneath him. How long he lay there, dazed, he didn’t know, but he was aware of a brother’s panicked yelling somewhere above him, and then the telltale hum of lightsabers. Rex lifted his head wearily, trying to make out his surroundings. The world swam and spun before him in time with the throbbing in his chest. It no longer felt like a knife was being twisted – now it felt like someone had shot him with a blaster all over again. Maybe someone had. It was hard to tell.

A shadow fell across his vision and he squinted up at the concerned face of General Skywalker.

“Rex? Rex, talk to me!”

Rex managed to croak out something before he felt the general reach under his armpits and hoist him up. The movement upset his chest even more and this time he couldn’t hold back a yell.

“Easy, buddy,” Skywalker was saying. Rex was dimly aware that he was being dragged away from the battle and he had just enough wits left to feel a twinge of indignation at being hauled around by his commanding officer.

More humming sounds and flashes of green and yellow off to his right signaled the approach of Commander Tano. She was shouting something amidst the sounds of the battle around them, but Rex could only clearly hear General Skywalker’s reply.

“Dunno,” he said, clearly in response to the Commander’s unheard question, “found him in the dirt.”

Rex felt the heat of a blaster bolt as it missed his knee by a few inches. Skywalker’s hands readjusted their grip and he increased his speed. Rex’s legs were bouncing painfully over every bump, pothole, and loose stone in the shattered streetway they had been fighting in, sending jolts of pain through his chest every time he moved. It was all he could do to keep from passing out. His vision had grown dark at the corners, and that paired with his HUD meant he could barely see at this point.

“Just a little farther, Rex,” said Skywalker in a reassuring voice. “Hang in there, buddy.”

A few more painful jolts later and they had reached the fort. Skywalker wasted no time in lowering Rex to the floor near the wall, away from pounding feet and heavy equipment. Rex let out a careful sigh of relief at being stationary at last. His chest throbbed in time with his pounding heart and sweat was still trailing down his face inside his helmet, tickling him.

Skywalker and Tano were speaking in hushed voices. Rex struggled to focus.

“...need to get a medic…”

“…Kix is busy…something about a collapsed lung…”

Small orange hands fumbled for the seal of his helmet, releasing the catch and lifting it gently off his head. The cool air that hit his face moments after was almost blissful and for a moment he didn’t feel quite so hot. Commander Tano’s face was drawn in concern, and she set the bucket aside as she muttered a reply to Skywalker.

“No, Clay’s busy too,” she said, feeling Rex’s forehead with the back of her hand and frowning at what she found. “We’ll have to do what we can for him right now. He’s burning up. Help me get his armor off.”

“Talk to me, Rex,” said Skywalker as he helped the commander unfasten his chestplate. “What’s the matter?”

Rex struggled for air. Lying prone like this was making it hard to breathe. “Chest hurts,” he choked out. “Can’t…can’t breathe…”

The general swore. “Ahsoka, help me sit him up.”

Rex was hauled painfully upright and propped against a hard object. That was marginally better, but he couldn’t hold back a hiss of pain that trailed off into a whimper.

“Were you hit?” Skywalker asked. “I don’t see a blaster wound anywhere?”

“Old wound,” Rex ground out. “Must’ve upset it – _gah_!” He broke off into a yell as Commander Tano’s probing fingers prodded too close to the original wound. She recoiled instantly, as if she had been burned.

“I can feel something there, in the Force,” she reported. “It feel _twisted_.”

Rex could only lie there and focus on controlling his breathing as the two jedi made quick work of the rest of his upper armor, the top of his blacks, and what felt like the rest of his dignity.

“General,” he croaked, “don’t waste time on – on me.”

Skywalker’s face swam before him like the choppy waves on Kamino, but he could make out the sad smile the general wore alongside concern. “You hush. Why shouldn’t I look after my friend? Now hold still – this might feel strange.”

Rex had no choice but to wait and watch through blurry vision as Skywalker’s hand hovered over the angry red mark on his chest. It began to glow faintly bluish and the pain in his chest began to ebb, replaced by an almost unbearable itching. He wanted to reach up and scratch, but he kept his arms locked at his side until the general was done.

“There, that should be better,” Skywalker was saying. “Definitely an old blaster wound that didn’t heal right.” The look he fixed Rex with was enough to send a spear of panic through him, although it was short-lived. “This is that potshot you took back on Saleucami, isn’t it? You assured me it was alright. Clearly it wasn’t.”

Rex gulped. “Thought it was healing,” he murmured, suddenly ashamed. “I’ve had worse.”

Skywalker pursed his lips thoughtfully. “That may be, but I need to know these things. It’s okay if you need to sit out a mission or two after getting injured. We can manage without you for a while if it means you’ll recover properly.”

Rex nodded, feeling like a cadet being scolded by his trainers again.

Skywalker reached out and patted him carefully on the shoulder. “Don’t be afraid to ask for a break, buddy. I can’t have my best trooper collapsing from an old injury because he didn’t take care of himself.”

“Oh, speak for yourself, Master,” came Commander Tano’s voice from off to the right as she approached and crouched at his side again. Rex hadn’t even noticed she’d left. “If I had a credit chip for every time Kix had to drag you to the medbay because you let an injury get out of hand, I’d have enough to buy a drink for every trooper in the 501st.”

Despite the pain it would cause, Rex managed a bit of laughter. Skywalker looked abashed for a moment, then shrugged. “You got me there, Snips. Speaking of Kix, I’d better go see if he has anything to report.” He got to his feet. “You stay put and rest, Captain. That’s an order,” he said, waggling a finger in Rex’s direction as he strode off, not waiting for a reply.

“Yessir,” Rex murmured to himself.

Commander Tano was peeling the packaging off a bacta patch. She placed it gently on the red, half-healed wound on his chest before holding up a few pills and a water bottle.

“Painkiller,” she said by way of explanation and helped him swallow the pills and take a drink of water. Even that small action left him spent. He could feel his eyelids drooping and he fought to stay awake. Whatever Skywalker had done to him had dulled the pain somewhat, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

Two small hands grabbed hold of his and clasped it between them. “What are we going to do with you, Rex?” the Commander asked, sounding worried. “What if we hadn’t found you before the clankers overtook us?”

“You’d manage,” Rex muttered weakly. He was utterly spent, still in pain, and the last of his dignity had fled long ago. Her hands felt nice, though.

“Yeah, but that’s all we’d do. You’re like the glue that holds this battalion together.”

Rex smiled weakly. “That so?”

“Well, _I_ think so,” said Commander Tano with a smile.

There was a pause, during which Rex tried to shift into a more comfortable position. It wasn’t working, and he hissed in frustration between gasps of pain before finally giving up.

Commander Tano stood up suddenly, letting go of his hand. “Let’s go find an extra cot so you can sleep,” she said, reaching down to help him carefully to his feet. “Can’t imagine this is very comfortable. One of the medics can come check on you later.”

“Not Kix, please,” he grunted as they staggered like a pair of drunkards towards the makeshift barracks. “He’ll murder me for this.”

The commander laughed and set him down gently on the edge of the nearest bed they could find.

“You want me to give you a sleep suggestion?” she asked, “I’ve been practicing, and I’m getting really good.”

Rex shook his head, frowning at how his vision still spun. “No, I’d rather be able to wake up if I’m needed. Thanks for the offer, though.”

She smiled and patted him on the shoulder the same way Skywalker had done. “Get some rest, Rex. I’ll go find one of the other medics. Kix is probably still busy, so you’re safe.”

“Thanks.”

It wasn’t long before the mildly put-out face of Clay appeared at Rex’s bedside. “I _knew_ you looked a bit off,” he said by way of introduction.

“Hello to you too,” Rex croaked. His head had stopped spinning and the painkillers were kicking in, much to his relief.

Clay snorted and held up a small handheld scanner, frowning at the readout. “Well, considering where that shot is, I’d say the damage isn’t half as bad as it could be, even with you exacerbating it.”

That was Clay, always looking on the bright side whenever he could.

“Get plenty of rest and keep bacta on it at all times and we’ll see how you look in a day or two.” He grinned cheekily – a signature look for him. “I’ll try to keep Kix off you as long as I can.”

“I appreciate it, brother.”

“ _Gar shuk meh kyrayc.”_

“ _Vor’e.”_

Clay moved off, leaving Rex by himself at last. His eyes were refusing to stay open any longer and he finally obliged. His last thought before unconsciousness took him was of the general, the commander, and his brothers.

_I guess it’s nice to have people worried about me and look after me._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read!
> 
> *Also sorry for the cliche/dumb title lol


End file.
